Cracking Addiction

This isn’t a scientific article, nor an academic one. I am neither a doctor nor a scholar. Who I am is someone on a journey of sobriety trying to better understand her brain and grasp her own behaviours, thoughts and actions – both past and present. Having said that, I’ve struggled with the tone of this article. Should it be in first person or third? Or even just a general ‘puff piece’? But the truth is, as someone once ‘in the eye of the storm’, the one who not only caused chaos but was chaos, I think there’s no way to separate the person from the piece.

Society pictures alcoholics and addicts as strangers in alleyways, nameless and faceless, people with a skewed moral compass, and a lack of empathy. Why else would a “normal person” steal, maim, lie, cheat and, in the worst of cases, even kill for a “quick fix”? Alcoholism and addiction, to most, don’t look like our parents, husbands or wives. They don’t resemble our siblings or coworkers, and they most definitely don’t look like our children.

In truth though, addiction wears a familiar face – it looks a lot like me.

Every book I’ve ever read on addiction ends in exactly the same manner (and I paraphrase here), “…and yet this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg. No matter what we know, we know so little...” And with every page I read, I wonder how I’ve read for hours  and yet learnt and understood but a sliver of this monumental disease.

Does it matter, then, whether addiction is a disease, a brain disorder or a developmental disorder? It does – but it’s also not what I want to write about, as that’s best left to the experts. What there is no debate on is what addiction does, what it did to me – it was the stealthy thief that hijacked my brain, controlled the cockpit, and then dropped me like a bomb.

No one chooses addiction. It starts slowly. Relief at first, then a ritual, and finally a prison. The brain rewires itself, screaming “This is survival!” even in the face of crumbling relationships and fading health. Addiction isn’t about willpower, morality or  a (lack of) conscience. It’s a broken fire alarm in the brain, screaming that you need something to survive, even when it’s killing you. A gentleman I knew who suffered from Substance Use Disorder or SUD (this, and Alcohol Use Disorder or AUD, are the medical terms; the word “addiction” carries negative connotations in term and usage itself) died by suicide leaving a note.  “I don’t want to use drugs and live,” he wrote, “but I don’t know how to live without them.”

People often ask me whether addiction is a matter of genes or one’s environment. Is it nature or nurture? Someone once said to me, “My genes were the gun. My environment pulled the trigger.” And honestly, that’s about as close as you can get to summing it up. Addiction isn’t just a neat little equation of cause and effect. It’s this intricate, tangled, complex and unpredictable mess where genes, environment, random circumstances, invisible choices or even one singe life-changing moment bump into each other and voila! You never know which combination tips the scale and ignites the spark – or even when. Which explains the continuing debate.

For many, trauma plays a huge role. Trauma is often expressed as the “three E’s”: an event, it’s experience and the effect. Ten people can go through the exact same event, yet the way each individual experiences it, and the effect it leaves behind, can be completely different. And it’s in those hidden cracks where addiction quietly slips in. A patient, stealthy beast lurking in the shadows, waiting for its perfect opportunity.

Addiction never affects only the addict. It’s reach is far and wide, its tentacles non-discriminating. Addiction seeps into family life, friendships, workplaces and entire communities. It can shake one’s physical health, emotional stability, mental wellbeing and professional life – and all at once. Families, especially, carry a heavy weight, and while not everyone suffers equally, neither does anyone walk away unscathed. No two addicts or two families carry the burden the same way.

The journey of recovery (and true change) really begins with three powerful words: “I need help.” For me, it was more about realising that despite all ‘my bad’, I was deserving of help. But let me confirm here that this easier said than done. Once you take that step, though, there are many paths to move forward.

There are the well-known 12 Step Recovery Programmes (Alcoholics Anonymous or AA and Narcotics Anonymous or NA being the best know examples), rehabilitation centres, talk therapy. Evidence-based approaches like Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT), Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT) and Motivational Interviewing (MI) are just a few of the many available tools. You’ve also got the Self-Management and Recovery Training Model (SMART), Moderation Management, Medication Assisted Therapy – and the list is growing.

Where the gap lies between addiction, treatment and recovery is the lack of awareness of addiction itself, the shame and stigma around this issue, the silent whispers, the hidden secrets. In the presence of these, access to care will continue to remain limited.

Once on the road to finding sobriety, one can try these practises individually, explore alternatives or make use of multiple techniques simultaneously to see what works. There is no “one-size-fits-all” here, no perfect formula. Or, as I like to put it – “(do) whatever ‘rocks’ your boat”. Because, let’s be honest, when it comes to battling addiction, ‘float’ seems far too mild a word.

Addiction isn’t my identity, it’s one chapter in my life, and it thrives in silence. But secrets die in the light of exposure.

If addiction isn’t a storm one chooses to weather, why stigmatise the reality of someone’s life and struggles? As Johann Hari so beautifully said, “The opposite of addiction… is connection”, the ultimate antidote to an insidious monster.

If you’re someone who thinks you might have a problem with alcohol and/or substance use, then perhaps the answer lies in asking the question itself. Know someone who’s struggling? Reach out. A healing life starts with two acts – asking for help and beginning to hope.

Naila Jung is a Addictions Counsellor and Recovery Support Coach working in the space of Alcohol Use / Substance Use Disorders. She can be contacted via Instagram @nailajung, and at nailajung@gmail.com

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